


Golden, Deified

by Azdaema



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Angst, Beautiful Golden Fools, Brother/Sister Incest, Canon Compliant, Double Drabble, F/M, Post - A Feast for Crows, Twincest, mythologizing your relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 15:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20695616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azdaema/pseuds/Azdaema
Summary: Jaime talks to a red priest somewhere in the Riverlands. (Or, I guess, the priest talks at Jaime.)





	Golden, Deified

**Author's Note:**

> Years ago, I remember reading a magazine article about the Gottman Institute. There was a list of important things in relationships, and one bulletpoint in particular caught my eye because I didn’t get what it meant:
>
>> **Create Shared Meaning:** Understand important visions, narratives, myths, and metaphors about your relationship.
> 
> I think I understand it now.

“You do not truly believe in your Seven Westerosi gods.” It was a statement, not a question.

“No.”

The red priest eyed Jaime across the fire. “Yet you believe in _something;_ I can tell.”

Jaime did not respond.

The priest merely sat back and smiled knowingly. “How do you think the world will end?” he quarried.

_We will leave this world together, as we came into it._

After waiting a moment without reply, the priest tried again. “How about how the world began?”

_Holding on to her heel._

Unperturbed by his companion’s non-responsiveness, the priest pressed on. “What is in fire? Look into it—what do you see?”

In general, Jaime tried to avoid mediating on fire; too much Aerys. But now he did as the priest bid—to refuse, stubbornly fixing his eyes elsewhere, felt too much like the insolence of a child.

The flames licked and danced, and he thought of the firelight reflected in his sister’s eyes on the night she burned the Tower of the Hand. This time, though, she was not the unearthly green but the golden of pure firelight, and the wretched halfness of his being throbbed like the phantom pain in his hand.


End file.
